


Tilted

by RobynTko



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobynTko/pseuds/RobynTko
Summary: Claire is surprised by multiple Christmas guests, though she was expecting a quiet evening with Jamie. But she can't seem to shake the uneasy feeling sitting quietly beneath the joy.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 22
Kudos: 58
Collections: Twelve Days OL Ficmas





	Tilted

**Author's Note:**

> If you have been triggered by anything in the show before, please scroll to the bottom notes BEFORE reading on. There may be some triggers associated with this fic that are relevant to check if you require trigger warnings.

I don’t know how long I was standing there, staring at the star on the top of the tree, only that Jamie’s arms startled me as they slid around my body from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and I hummed my content when our cheeks touched. 

“It’s crooked, aye?”

“Mm,” I mused, opening my eyes again, frowning at the tilted star. “Can you straighten it for me?”

I could feel him shift slightly as he dug into his memory. “‘Perfection has one grave defect. It is apt to be dull.’”

I scoffed. “And how do you know that quote? He wasn’t born for over a hundred years after you.”

“Then how do ye explain me holdin’ ye now? Here? Like this?” His hand roamed down to rest on my hip, squeezing gently before turning me around. It was hard to pull my gaze away from that silly, crooked star.

His hand smoothed my hair, and I resisted swatting it away. It took much longer in this time to make my hair just right, not like in Jamie’s time. My thoughts wandered to Lallybroch—Jamie pulling a pin from my hair and letting it fall around my shoulders. I could see him standing by the hearth, the pattern on the wall behind him flickering in and out of view with the light of the candle. I snapped out of the memory when his hands moved down to my arse, and I absentmindedly pushed my hips against his. When I felt his lips brush against mine, my eyes fluttered open. When had I closed them?

“Are ye happy to be having a quiet Christmas, Sassenach?”

“Mostly,” I whispered into his mouth. 

“Mostly,” he repeated softly before turning me around again. I could see tiny flakes of snow beginning to form outside the window. They were barely visible. 

The doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” I asked as Jamie disappeared into the front entrance. My eyes wandered back to the star atop the tree. It needed no more than a tiny nudge to be straight, but I wouldn’t be able to reach. 

I heard commotion from the direction of the door, but I recognized the voices before I saw their faces. “Marsali! Fergus!”

They smiled wide when they saw me. Jamie sauntered in behind them, a grin on his face as well and both hands enveloping tiny hands. Fergus had a squirming toddler in his arms, but his embrace was just as comforting as I expected. 

Marsali held up a roasting pan with an uncooked turkey inside. “Judgin’ by the smell, ye’ve no got a bird in the oven yet. Let’s cook this up, shall we?”

After getting the turkey settled in the oven, I took Marsali in my arms properly. She stood back to look at me. “Ye’ve always looked fine in red, Claire.” 

I could see her barely visible bump beneath her outfit, and I placed a hand there. “I think this one’s going to be a girl.”

“Lord knows we could use more of us,” Marsali said, her straight blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she looked down. I was overwhelmed and tried to stifle the tugging at my heart. 

My eyebrows furrowed when I heard the dripping. A slow echoing of water off the porcelain. “I thought Jamie fixed that.” It came out as a whisper, but Marsali didn’t reply. She only stood staring at me, a permanent grin on her loving face. 

The doorbell rang again. Marsali and I rejoined the group in the living room in time to see Jamie walking back in with Jemmy in his arms. My hands flew to my mouth. 

“Look at the wee devil I found at the door.” Jemmy was clinging to his Grandda until he saw me. He squirmed down, and I opened my arms for him to fly into. 

“Hello, my sweet boy! What are you doing here? I thought your daddy had to work this Christmas?”

Bree popped out from behind the wall, still brushing snow from her hair to answer for Jemmy. “He did! But he didn’t think it was fair for us to miss out on Christmas just because he had to work. He’ll drive down tomorrow when he’s finished.” I opened my free arm and folded her into me. My stomach dropped then, but I didn’t know why. The overwhelming relief of having my loved ones surrounding me so unexpectedly, I assumed. 

“Here Jem,” Bree said, handing Jemmy over a stocking she was holding. 

“Come see, Grannie,” he shouted, pushing himself away from me. I put him down and followed to the coffee table. He turned the stocking on it’s side and out spilled several oranges. They seemed to move in slow motion as they rolled across the table. One fell over the edge and rolled until it hit the heat register, just below the window. I could see that the flakes were getting bigger now, the streetlamp outside showcasing them.

The next few hours flew by in a blur, the smell of turkey filled the air, along with the green bean casserole Bree had brought and the boiling potatoes Jamie had put on. I was sitting across the room, watching as Jamie draped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. They were looking at a picture of Frank on the mantle, and I could hear their conversation as clear as if I were standing next to them. 

“He would be very proud of the woman ye’ve become, Bree.”

“You think?”

“I ken.”

She hesitated. “Even though I’m not—I mean—”

“Ye’re followin’ yer heart, a leannan. Yer art is so beautiful, Brianna. He would be proud that ye’re sharin’ that wi’ the world, and perfectin’ it at such a prestigious school. Any man would be lucky to call you daughter.”

“He was a good father.”

“Aye.”

She turned to look at him. “And so are you.”

He kissed her on the forehead before she nestled her head in the crook of his neck. 

The doorbell rang. Jamie glanced back and me, frowning at his confusion. I shrugged. He disappeared again, only to return with Jocasta on his arm. I could hear the tune Murtagh was whistling before I saw him, and my cheeks started to hurt from smiling so wide. I crossed the room and embraced them both. “I can’t believe it!”

“There’s more,” Murtagh said slyly, stepping aside to reveal Young Ian, a bouquet of flowers clasped in his hands.

“What?” I reached for him, pulling him into my arms. “I thought you all couldn’t make it!”

“We made it work, Auntie. We couldn’t imagine spendin’ Christmas wi’out you all.”

I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks as I looked around me. The children were running from room to room, laughter ringing out every few moments, and gifts were being exchanged. My heart felt full, but there was a part of me that wanted to shrink away from it all. I wanted to bottle it up and open it later, to preserve it. I had this panic inside me, this lingering forlorn. 

I found the vase beneath the sink, and after I had filled it, the dripping remained. I watched for a moment, the single contained drop breaking apart into chaos in the end. It was dim in the kitchen, and I jumped when I caught a moving shadow in the corner of my eye. It was nothing, but the feeling grabbed hold. The confusion remained. I couldn’t comprehend why I felt so melancholic. 

I placed the vase on the table in the kitchen, and though it was out of sight of the party, it felt correct. My thumb traced the slightly raised wings of the painting on its surface. It felt safe, protected. It couldn’t get broken here. And so I left it. 

Jamie handed me a wrapped present while everyone was occupied and I opened it in silence. I ran my hand along the smooth, brown fabric that lay folded in my lap once the paper had been discarded. I knew what it was, and I kissed him gently, his warm lips resting comfortably against mine.

Young Ian was sitting on the couch, a magazine in his hand before he stood up abruptly. “Auntie! You never told me you were famous!”

I giggled, embarrassed. “That’s nothing.”

“Tis no’ nothing! Ye had a paper published! And look here,” he said excitedly as everyone gathered around, “a picture of our very own Dr. Fraser, front and center.”

“‘Tis a lovely photo, Claire,” Jocasta added. Murtagh nodded his approval, his arm wrapping around Jocasta’s waist.

“What did ye have published?” Marsali asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“It was a paper on the affects of sexual assault in women.”

Their applause made me feel both loved and deeply uncomfortable. My eyes wandered as they praised me, back to the star, then over to the orange I had yet to pick up, then to the snowflakes outside the window. They were huge now, the size of cotton balls, drifting so slowly they looked suspended in air. As if time had stopped.

I could hear the timer ding in the kitchen, and I was grateful for the distraction. “Does someone want to check the turkey? I’ll set the table.”

I didn’t know how we managed to cram all of us at the table, but we did. I felt removed watching everyone eat, and laugh, and tease one another. I felt both complete, and dismantled. I didn’t feel compelled to excuse myself when I walked away, only that I knew I could go without being noticed. 

Jamie found me standing by the window beside the tree watching the white snow wash the rest of the world away. He took the gift he had given to me and wrapped it around my shoulders, swaying gently as he did so. 

I was suddenly catapulted into another moment, into another time, into another reality. I could feel the cold ground seeping through my clothing and clinging to my skin. I could hear Jamie calling my name in a loud growl, and a panic in his voice. In my mind I could hear the vase shatter as it hit the floor, the pieces of glass echoing endlessly into an abyss.

My eyes opened in slits. I could see a bright star just inches from the tip of a tree as I lay there, soaked, shaking, and bound. All I could think was if I could just shift slightly, it would look like a star atop a Christmas tree, but it remained askew.

I could feel the Jamie in my mind slipping away, his arms still embracing me. I glanced over at the tree, the angled star no longer bothering me. I let my eyes fall shut. I tried to hold on to this moment. I wanted to stay here. 

When I opened my eyes again, I could see Jamie running towards me down the hill. The cloth in my mouth had dried to my lips where the blood had pulled it in. He staggered at the sight of me. Though my throat was coarse, I felt the vibration of my humming. The lyrics and soft tone of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” playing quietly in my head.

I shut my eyes once more and fell into where I was safe in the warmth of his arms already. Lines began snaking their way up the fabric that surrounded me, the plaid pattern clinging to the blanket I had been wrapped in. 

A tear slipped beneath my lashes as I whispered to him. “We will never spend another Christmas apart, will we?”

His breath was warm against my cheek when he answered. “Never, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> There is nothing graphic in this fic, however, rape is heavily indicated. If you are triggered by suggestive rape, or parts in the show that mention or imply rape, this is a warning to pass on this fic.


End file.
